


Mutual Agreements

by megnlv



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, I want them to all be friends, Implied Widowtracer, Team Talon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:58:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8488522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megnlv/pseuds/megnlv
Summary: After the mission at Volskaya Industries failed, Widowmaker suspected that Sombra was not telling the truth about their target escaping them.or: Widowmaker confronts Sombra and the two compromise.





	

**Author's Note:**

> found a new favorite character.

“You compromised our mission and let Volskaya go.”

Sombra twitched, swiveled round on her chair to face the source of the unexpected voice in her quarters. The Director’s pet spider certainly had a way of sneaking up on people. Sombra quirked a brow, leaning back. “Sorry?” She asked. “I don’t seem to recall.”

Widowmaker’s stony expression did not change, save for a slight narrowing of her eyes. Sinewy arms crossed, the jut of her hip resting against the frame of the doorway. Always work and no play, that one. Sombra liked her, mostly on the days she wasn't sour from failing an assignment. Which was, with her appealing track record, most days. Sometimes, whenever she was present when Sombra endlessly teased Reaper, Widowmaker even cracked a coy smile. “Do not play stupid, girl,” she said, snorting in that dainty way she always did when she found something ridiculous. “You are not as hard to read as you may think.”

“Are you accusing me of thwarting our assignment?” Sombra asked, placing a hand over her heart, feigning insulted “You offend me, Mi Araña Azul. Where is the trust, here?”

“The alarms,” Widowmaker deflected. “You were under control of the entire system, yet they still went off. If you think I did not see you speaking with Volskaya, you are mistaken. What do you want with her?”

“I was under the impression that it wasn’t your place to ask questions. Or maybe that mousy ex-pilot is influencing you,” Sombra said, waggling her fingers. A holovid manifested from her fingernails; on it, a security camera capture of Lena Oxton entering her apartment building in East End London. Low blow, maybe, but one couldn’t blame her for getting defensive against Widowmaker’s suspicion.

Widowmaker’s slender shoulders marginally tensed. Just barely noticable, but the rigidness was there.

Oh, Sombra knew all about _Madame Amélie LaCroix_ \- she liked to be well informed of those she would be working with.

She was the beloved wife of an elite Overwatch agent, an accomplished ballerina once upon a time, an only child born to the well established Guillard family, kidnapped right off of the street in broad daylight several years before the organization was disbanded. Talon had ground her to _nothing_ beneath their heel, subjected her to a number of neural conditioning; enough to completely brainwash her to put a bullet in her own husband’s forehead. The Widowmaker rose from Amélie’s ashes, a living, hardly breathing weapon who took the “thrill of the kill” a mite too seriously.

Talon, the dirty bastards, certainly had no problem with turning people into their marionettes, subjecting their living weapons, for there were many of them among several units, to regular “treatments.” Sombra, despite having her own way of doing things, had complied to a term of agreements when she’d first come along to the organization - yet Amélie had never even had that choice. A shame, she thought.

If you were going to become someone who murdered for sport, it might as well have been on your own volition

Lately it had seemed as though Widowmaker was beginning to... _crack._ Subtle instances of hesitation when responding to superiors about how _functional_ she was, despite her steadfast loyalty to the people that had essentially killed her, particularly when it came to a certain British poster child with an annoying accent but rather cute face.

Perhaps Widowmaker was simply developing her own agenda. Sombra could respect that, having one herself.

Still, it was a curious situation; a rather delicate one at that. Widowmaker wasn’t touchy with her emotions and certainly wasn’t a drama queen, unlike Reaper, and so Sombra wasn’t able to easily get a rise out of her to piece any solid information together. The Widowmaker was programmed not to break underneath even the most intense interrogation measures as a precaution to keep intimate Talon information secret - and no amount of hacking or morally questionable ‘research’ could tell her whether or not she was breaking further away from her conditioning. Yet, if so, she continued to stay with Talon all on her own.

“So, was there something wrong? I’m kinda busy.” Sombra waved one hand, gesturing around her work space. Various holovids hovered around her; a network of personnel files of Overwatch agents and LumeriCo emails.

The tension in Widowmaker’s shoulders gradually eased, and her face shifted into its habitual neutral expression. Beautiful, but frustratingly unreadable.

“Your blackmail is useless to me, _Ombre_ . Save your breath,” Widowmaker eventually responded, straightening. “Talon has done me no favors. They made me _kill_ my own h-” Her words caught abruptly in her throat, but she cleared it quickly, dispelling any modicum of emotion that may have leaked into that accented voice. Sombra has seen her irritated and annoyed, but never emotional. “Whatever it is you do is your business alone. I have come to warn you that if you continue to be so reckless, Talon may catch you and make an example of you yet.”

Sombra couldn’t mask her surprise. “Wait, you’re serious?” She asked. “You’re not going to run off to the Director and say you saw anything?”

Widowmaker shrugged, indifferent, as always. “I did not see anything,” she said.

“Then I don’t believe there is any reason to look into Lena Oxton as a possible distraction,” Sombra said. She brought up the rest of her files - several surveillance photos, tracked locations, home address - and with only a hint of hesitation, deleted them all. Sombra could, if necessary, just as easily retrieve them should she need to. “Let’s call it a mutual agreement between confidantes,” she said, purple lips stretching into a mischievous grin. “We are, aren’t we, amiga?”

Ochre eyes lingered, calculating, before Widowmaker gave a curt nod. “Oui,” she deadpanned, pivoting to saunter out into the corridor. The metallic door slid heavily shut behind her, leaving Sombra alone to her work.

Curious woman indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> so, I'm currently on vacation but since Sombra was just released I absolutely needed to write something quick and short about her. this might be the shortest thing I've ever written lol. I'm definitely going to be doing more extensive fics about her, but since the animated short "Infiltration" I felt like Widowmaker and Reaper were onto Sombra - like they knew that she wasn't telling the truth.
> 
> anyway. I love her. and I want her, Widowmaker and Reaper to be buds.
> 
> translation:  
> mi araña azul - my blue spider
> 
> please let me know what you thought!! comments are worth a million kudos, and always make me smile :)
> 
> you can find me @madame-lacroix on tumblr!!


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